It has happened before. Albums have fractured Massive Attack (
Mezzanine), Rage Against the Machine and Soundgarden, just
to name a few recent examples. In Blur's case, guitarist Graham
Coxon left the band as they were recording this album. Coxon was a
much-needed creative counterpart to Blur frontman Damon Albarn.

But a career-ending album isn't necessarily the same thing as a
career-suicide album. And this is no Metal Machine Music. Indeed,
the first listen to
Think Tank is off-putting: it's reminiscent of Albarn's
other band, Gorillaz, it's another album whose theme touches on the
post 9/11 world and well, it's the seventh album from these guys.
Their rivals, Oasis, haven't exactly achieved greatness since
What's the Story (Morning Glory)? Still, put all of that
aside, and after one listen of
Think Tank, the listener is likely apt to give the album
another spin.

And another.

Suddenly, weird songs like "On The Way to the Club" and the
"Come on people now, smile on your brother"-vibe of "Moroccan
Peoples Revolutionary Bows Club" reveal Blur's seemingly unlimited
well of creative potential. Portions of the album were recorded in
Morocco, as Albarn has repeatedly gushed about his love for world
music. But unlike so many inferior artists, Albarn's incorporations
of world music doesn't feel forced or as merely a symbol of his
diversity. Its inclusion actually adds a great amount of depth and
legitimacy to the songs on
Think Tank.

The biggest saving grace of
Think Tank is its uniformity. Albarn was an outspoken critic
of the U.S.-led coalition against the government of Iraq. As a
result, Albarn was able to see the relative futility of the peace
movements throughout the world as the march to war seemed all but
inevitable. So, it's no surprise that
Think Tank is packed with a sense of elegant
resignation.

"Where is the love song to set us free," Albarn sweetly laments
on the opening line of "Out of Time." The love song that he seeks
is definitely not on this album. On "Ambulance," Albarn trembles,
"I ain't got nothing to be scared of." Yeah, right.

Not all songs work as effectively. "Jets," while having a loopy
groove backed by a great sax solo, meanders and rambles. And "Crazy
Beat," a song created with the help of Fatboy Slim, all but
screams, "this is the radio hit of this album." Expect the
incessant chorus of "Yeah, yeah, yeah"s to be played at your next
sporting event. It has been reported that Albarn removed two songs
that were all but guaranteed radio hits from
Think Tank. He might have done himself a favor and removed
"Crazy Beat" as well.

The last two songs of
Think Tank are crucial in that they redeem some of the
weaker tracks and more importantly, wet the listener's appetite for
a second listen. The quirky "Gene by Gene" is melodic, but the
noise effect (something akin to a squeaky box spring mattress) is
one of those sounds that will likely come back into your head,
either at 3 in the morning when you're trying to fall asleep or
during an hour-long commute on the way home from work.

The last track, "Battery in Your Leg," is a poignant ballad for
life under "Alert Color: Orange." Albarn sings, "This is a ballad
for the good times," as Coxon lays down perhaps his final statement
to Blur: a wrenching guitar line. Consider this Coxon's way of
giving the middle finger to his boss on the way out the door. He
will be missed.

Think Tank is not an album that you are likely going to get
on the first listen, nor the second, nor even the seventh listen.
Still, Blur have found a great way to market the album as a sort of
freak show: "Step right up and come see the album that pretty much
fractured the most musically accomplished Brit-pop band of the
'90s!" But the album possesses enough hooks and exists as a
cohesive front-to-back listen to keep the listener hooked. For
those who want a soundtrack to get elegantly wasted to in this era,
Think Tank rises above its baggage and delivers the
goods.